


Things We Lost to the Fire

by thebakerstboyskeeper



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Bilbo, Bilbo wasn't on the quest, Dragon AU, HRBB14, M/M, Magic, more tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebakerstboyskeeper/pseuds/thebakerstboyskeeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins, servant of Smaug the Terrible, has been waiting.</p><p>Within Erebor's halls, he has practiced his magic and repaired the stone in anticipation of the dwarves' return to the mountain. But he has waited many long years, trapped under Smaug's careful eye, feeling that flame of hope dwindle into nothing.</p><p>Until the day a small, ragtag team of dwarves manages to enter the mountain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things We Lost to the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for the lovely fatynthemachine's gorgeous artwork. I had so much fun playing with it and the characters. I love them, even if they are uncooperative and snarky toward their author.
> 
> Check out the artwork here!  
> http://fatynthemachine.tumblr.com/post/105200582374/my-art-for-the-hrbb14-for-this-prompt-it-has

Though the mountain has sat cold and quiet for countless years and months and days, today is different. Today, he can hear voices outside, can feel the stone stirring as it senses a familiar presence. The tremors that ripple through it as the secret door is cracked open after so long reverberate in his very bones. His steps fly through the halls as he hurries to the treasury and lifts himself to the highest hidden point in the room.

He waits.

Slowly, the soft echoes of whispers grow louder and dwarvish forms appear, weapons held ahead of them for protection. A small part of him sparks in amusement. As if those would protect them against the beast. His eyes widen when it seems they’ve all made their way inside. They cluster together on the landing, eyes constantly moving.

This is no army. It is merely a small gathering, travel worn and mismatched. He doesn’t know if it is courage, stupidity, or naivete that guides them on, but he finds he can admire them for whatever it is that drives them.

“It’s too quiet,” a voice growls.

His gaze zeroes in on the bald dwarf who speaks. Gruff, hulking . . . _a warrior_. Nobody bothers to answer him. They keep their vigilant watch, guarding each others’ backs.

He can’t help the slight smirk that tilts his lip as he watches. _So frightened, such a measly threat. It would be no effort at all to snatch--_

He shakes his head roughly, dispelling that voice. He is not his master. No matter that these dwarves are intruders.

A familiar face turns in his direction. He starts quietly atop his hidden perch. The braids have more white, the skin is more grizzled, but Bilbo knows this dwarf.

  
  


_He hears choking, can taste the acrid scent of smoke on the back of his tongue. Creating a path for the trapped miners had sapped most of his energy. He is quickly tiring and knows he won't be able to help everyone. The grief of that knowledge threatens to overwhelm him for a moment, but a moan followed by hacking coughs propels him forward. There will be time to mourn his failures later._

_He presses through the ruins of the stalls, the smashed goods and decimated works of the merchants. So much destruction. The sounds of someone in distress lead him to a dwarf overcome with smoke. He coughs and coughs, his body trembling with the effort of staying alive. Bilbo spares a brief thought to wonder why the smoke no longer troubles his breathing as he kneels next to the dwarf._

_"Are you hurt?" he yells._

_"Just m'leg," rasps back at him. "Wanted to get the little ones to safety. They were admirin' the toys as usual."_

_Bilbo's heart sinks as the dark eyes flutter, struggling to stay open. The hobbit casts about the closest stalls, finding some spare cloths. He gathers them quickly and returns to the dwarf. Moving as quickly as his fingers will cooperate, he ties one bit of fabric around the nose and mouth, reaching for what little oxygen he can feel in the air, letting Old Took's words echo back at him from some long ago memory. There is very little to be found, but it dances across his fingers as he guides it toward the cloth, hoping it will be enough to help get the dwarf to his feet. When he hears a few deep breaths being drawn, Bilbo finds the gash on his leg and binds it as best he can. He feels Smaug growing near. It is time to move._

_Coaxing the dwarf to his feet, and pleased to hear the coughs are a bit less harsh, Bilbo urges him forward, listening intently for the familiar sounds of his master. They find an undisturbed hallway, the haze of smoke thin, and hurry through it. The dwarf leans a little heavier on the hobbit, the smoke having weakened him._

_"What's your name?" Bilbo asks, to keep him alert._

_"Bifur. Bifur's m'name," he murmurs, voice muffled by the cloth._

_They don't stop moving._

_"What do you do?"_

_"Toymaker. At least, I used to be."_

_"You still are."_

_"We're not makin' it out of this mountain alive, lad."_

_Bilbo doesn't respond to that, letting the faint whiff of charred earth guide him through the stone passageways. They're drawing closer to the entrance._

_Once they can see it, and the soldiers who have fallen trying to bar it to the dragon, Bilbo pushes Bifur forward._

_"Go," he urges._

_"But you--"_

_"There are others who need help. I will be fine."_

_The dwarf gives him an inscrutable look. Staggering slightly, he claps Bilbo's shoulder before drawing away._

_"Thank you, for m'life. Whoever you are and whatever you're doing it doesn't matter. Don't think ye can hide from me. I will find you later, to make sure you know of my gratitude."_

_Bilbo offers him a sad smile, doesn't tell the dwarf he won't be found amongst the survivors later. He simply waits until he sees someone outside notice Bifur and come to his aid before turning and pressing back into the inferno the Lonely Mountain has become._

  
  


He blinks and thinks of the slightly charred wooden carving of a raven he recovered from the stall that had once belonged to Bifur. How many times has he held it and wondered about the dwarf? He has his answer now. The dwarf is alive and well.

No, wait . . . is that an _axe_ in his forehead?

His attention is rudely drawn away as another dwarf declares there is something still living here. How they know that is beyond Bilbo. He knows of the rumors of Smaug’s death.

"No dragon?"

His gaze narrows onto the young dwarf who has lowered his bow. He's looking at the treasure eagerly, a smile spreading across his face. Bilbo's hackles rise. Of course the treasure would cause even more trouble.

"Don't be too hasty, laddie."

"The wyrm is still here."

Wyrm indeed. Bilbo snorts and, with a flick of his hand, sends a portion of gold and jewels rolling and heaving. It's close to the little company and far away from . . . other places. He watches in amusement as the dwarves exclaim in surprise and horror and dart back toward the passage.

Save one.

He stays right on the edge of the landing, shoulders straight, chin lifted in defiance. The sword in his hand is clasped firmly, but not yet raised to defend himself. And while his oversized clothes - most likely given to them by the men of the lake - would make anyone else seem like a child in their parents' clothes, this dwarf wears them like they were made for him. His ebony hair is threaded with silver, his beard short, and Bilbo can see the gleam of striking blue eyes even from far away. It brings a smile to Bilbo's lips. While he may never have met this dwarf, he knows who he is.

Thorin, son of Thrain, prized grandson of Thror, now King Under the Mountain, has returned.

Bilbo's chest swells with anticipation. Now, everything he has waited these long years for, can begin.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> These chapters will be short and I will upload them as fast as I can. Thanks for reading!


End file.
